


you are my crown and you are my scepter.

by AquaWolfGirl



Category: Cursed (TV 2020)
Genre: Children, Drabbles, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Sweetness and Fluff, M/M, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Pregnancy, Some Mentions of Self Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AquaWolfGirl/pseuds/AquaWolfGirl
Summary: Several years have passed since Nimue took up the sword, and she is now Queen of both Britannia and the Fey. She is also very much loved by her two consorts, Arthur and Lancelot.Just a short series of sweet moments as these three fall in love together, starting at the end of the war but the beginning of them. Somewhat chronological, but also a bit random at times. Will include lots of softness, healing, and eventually some family moments. Also mind the rating - will include some more heated scenes as well.
Relationships: Nimue/Arthur/Lancelot
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	you are my crown and you are my scepter.

**Author's Note:**

> All right, I ship all three because those two men are just too pretty and would love her so differently. I also want to explore some character development in Arthur and how he handles jealousy years after Gawain. I've been headcanoning a bunch of little soft moments, so expect a lot of that. A little pain (because Lancelot's been through hell) but for the most part just softness or hurt/comfort.
> 
> If you enjoy, please leave a kudo and/or a comment! Hope you like it!

Their beginning isn’t soft. But then again, she can’t think of a beginning that is.

New life arrives with wailing and agony. New kings and queens come at a cost, she knows that well, the cost of lives and blood and pain and suffering.

New eras are ushered in at the destruction of the one that came before it.

Which is exactly where they are.

♔

The abandoned castle of Festa and Moreii has been turned into their home. A mix of man-made structure and Fey magic, it serves as the perfect representation of the union of man and Fey, Queen over all of Britannia - and every one of its inhabitants.

She’s still unfamiliar with the structure, which is why she sees him. She’s wandering, exploring, leaving Arthur in their bed in favor of discovering this new home, this new life. She’s only just stepped down from a staircase of old stone and twining vines when she sees a shadow out of the corner of her eye.

He’s running.

Nimue knows his shoulders, now, knows the shape of him, of her _friend_ as he makes his way through the early blue morn.

“Your queen commands you to stop.”

She calls out, and though her voice is absorbed by much of the green around them so that she doesn’t wake the castle’s occupants, he hears her. He hears her, and stops. He doesn’t turn towards her. Instead, she sees his shoulders slump, and his head bow.

“Lancelot.”

“I have no place here.”

“Yes, you do.” She doesn’t bother asking why he thinks that way, because she already knows. She’s seen the scars on his back, both old and fresh. She walks towards him, around him, forcing him to acknowledge her. He avoids looking at her, but she can see the tension in him as she stands before him. “Yes, you do.”

“I don-”

He freezes the moment she puts her hands on his cheeks. His cheeks are slick with tears, some warm, still, some cool. His beard is soaked with them, lips parting and breath shaky as she continues to hold his face.

“You’ve proven yourself more than worthy,” she promises. “It’s all right. You can stay. You will stay.”

It’s a tactic, one she’s learned over the past three years with him at her side. If she words it as though she is giving him permission to do something, or is giving him a command, it is more likely he will believe it. No doubt it’s leftover from his time with the Red Paladins. He has to feel like it’s deserved. Like he’s earned the right to stay, to exist in between the worlds of men and Fey.

To exist with _her._

Much to her relief, he doesn’t argue. No doubt he will, later. This war is not won, yet, but she has won this battle as he closes his eyes and leans into her touch.

His back is damp and sticky through the tunic he wears. More wounds to care for, more wounds to heal in addition to the ones in his mind and heart. But no matter. They have honey, and they have pepper, and they have patience.

She guides him from the main courtyard, looking up to where she knows her and Arthur’s rooms are, and finds the silhouette of her love standing at the window.

He fought alongside her in the battle between religion and Fey.

She will have to ask if he will fight alongside her for the battle for the man in her arms, as well.


End file.
